Imperfect
by StriderAndVargas
Summary: (TW: Anorexia and Self Hatred) Here's Drabble-A-Day part 3. I actually do write these daily, but they're on my phone and it takes forever to get time on the computer to post. "Homestuck was perfect. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes he was beautiful, and Hetalia had thought so from the moment they'd met."


**AN: I'm going to admit right now, I only wrote this so I could write an eating disorder. It honestly wouldn't make too much sense without slightly altering the universe, so how about this. Imagine a social standing reversal with these two, in which Homestuck is fairly popular with most, while Hetalia realy just has Homestuck. Alright? Here goes.**

 **(TW: Anorexia and Self Hate)**

Homestuck was perfect. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes he was beautiful, and Hetalia had thought so from the moment they'd met. Even when they'd despised each other, a sneer contorting those features every time he entered the room he was beautiful. That's why Hetalia found it odd that he'd want to be anywhere near someone as lonely, as desperate for attention, as _ugly_ as he was. It didn't make sense in his mind. Homestuck could have anyone he wanted and he'd chosen _him_. It was likely out of pity and frankly, he wished to change that.

It took him exactly thirteen days to decide what the worst part about him was. Upon the realization he thought it should have been obvious from the start, however. He was fat. He was disgusting.

It didn't seem too hard to fix that fact at first. He'd begun passing on seconds and desserts and it seemed to be working, if just a little bit. A month of this and he'd found himself checking the scale daily at a minimum. While some pounds had come off he was still fat, fat, fat. Smaller meals in general came next, the amount shrinking every week or so until he was hardly eating much at all. The mirror and scale had become his best friends and worst enemies it seemed, and even as the number shrunk, shrunk, shrunk it was still too high. It was always too high. The jacket that was once loose on his shoulders on chilly days became attached to him at all times, even when he was afraid he'd overheat and pass out. He actually had, one particularly hot July day, blaming it on fatigue and brushing the incident off, though he wouldn't let his boyfriend anywhere near the garment, which he worried rose suspicions. He found himself drinking a lot of water, as well going through sugar-free gum like a smoker with a death wish goes through cigarettes. Eventually he was skipping meals in their entirety, thinner, thinner, not thin enough. He still wasn't good enough for Homestuck, he wouldn't be until he wasn't fat. He hadn't changed on the outside, a grinning mask to the many concealing nights spent screaming, crying, hating and a life centering on the little black digits that decreased, decreased, decreased, but still weren't small enough. It was torture, but a small price to pay for perfection.

It was a while before Homestuck took any notice. A night where kisses were hungry, hands roaming with the intent of touching every part of the other. The jacket of which his matesprit wore constantly was off before he could protest again, like he always had before. It fell to the kitchen floor, forgotten, as fingers that were moments before leaving featherlight touches on every curve and crook faltered at Homestuck's neck. The grey hands that were once snaking down his sides came to a complete halt, the tee shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders doing nothing to hide jutting ribs from prodding hands. Half lidded eyes shot open at the revelation, the emerald flush all but disappearing from a face that changed from a look of lust to that of concern in seconds. The hands that were once on every inch of him strayed at his shirt hem, before black eyes met green, and he nodded for him to proceed. The pink on his cheeks took on a much harsher tone as more, more, more was revealed, and what hadn't been known to anyone except himself was revealed against a granite countertop that suddenly felt all too cold under fingertips that were all too thin, the only light in the room streaming all too bright from the window. The look of concern blended with one of shock as his suspicion had been proven, pale chest rising and falling without rhythm, all defined ribs and sharp hipbones that were wrong, wrong, wrong.  
"Hetalia?" Eyes met again as those of emerald welled up with silent tears. He gave no reply as Homestuck stood to meet him eye to eye. He spoke again.  
"Hetalia, why?" The words were careful and articulate, though also threaded with emotions like shock and confusion. A moment passed between the two, a silence that spoke volumes. A tiny voice, frail and on the brink of tears spoke finally, tone starting off slow and unsteady as it cut through the stillness the same way it would if he were screaming.  
"B-because I... You... You don't deserve someone like me! You're perfect and I-I'm horrible! I thought maybe if I could change something, *anything*, you- you wouldn't have to pity me so much." His voice rose and fell in volume, as though unsure whether to scream or whisper.  
"Pity?" Pity was the only word to fall past his lips, heavy like a stone in a sea of explanations and excuses.  
"Why did you- I didn't know- How could you-" Frustration seeped further and further into his speech with each word. Eventually the slow trickle turned to a typhoon and he found himself yelling.  
"HOW COULD YOU STARVE YOURSELF?" The silence that followed seemed louder than his voice could ever possibly go. The dam broke quickly after that, apologies mixed with hard sobs as with his matesprit slumped softly to the linoleum. A moment passed before Homestuck could feel wetness in his own eyes, pale green tears quickly multiplying until he'd fallen next to Hetalia, wrapping an arm around those too delicate shoulders, mumbled thoughts lost beneath wails.  
"How could you think like that?" The words were almost inaudible against wave after wave of sobs.  
"Do I act superior? Why didn't you say anything?" Soft words fell on unhearing ears.  
"Why would you hate yourself so much when you were so perfect?"


End file.
